It’s hard to fathom that today marks one month till she turns two. Almost two whole years of loving this beautiful embodiment of perfection. Her birth, the most beautiful in its own right, but it was also the hardest of all of my children. Days before she was born I had a huge falling out and she has been my only ‘overdue’ baby. It was harder mentally than it was physically, trying to find strength when I felt like I couldn’t breathe, was hurting and heartbroken. Lyla’s Birth was special, but I never felt a part of it. My body...
We visited a women’s clinic, a place where I knew other people had been to abort their babies, and whilst I knew it was something I couldn’t do, I felt I had to go because that’s what was “expected” of me, that everyone would doubt my age and my ability to be a mother. We had the first of many scans in that room and you probably not even the size of a grain of rice had the tiniest little smudge of a heartbeat... that’s all I needed, that reassurance, to know you were real and on your way to us.
The first few weeks of pregnancy can be filled with joy, love, delight and anxiety. So many highs and lows, emotions that we've been taught not to share. We've been conditioned to keep our pregnancies a secret until it is "safe" to do so.
So you still need to act on the surface as if everything is as it once was, but you have a new bounce in your step, a secret budding relationship, and only you can fully feel its force. A tiny little life that is blooming away and consuming your every thought and emotion. And almost instantly the need to pee every five minutes kicks in. Your boobs feel different, tender and tingly.
We have been brought up in a world where we are told we can be anything we want to be. Where we are encouraged to follow our dreams and have amazing careers because anything is possible. This is great for equality, but as new mums in this modern world, being everything to everyone can be hard.
It’s said that it takes a village to raise a child but we have lost our villages. We don’t have the support there once was to care for a new baby, a new family dynamic and ourselves too. We are so proud of being able to achieve everything - why should raising our children to be any different? Why should we need help when we have been taught to be independent and do everything for ourselves
You have renewed my faith in myself, in the moments I thought I could not get any more sleep-deprived, you'd fight sleep more. You pushed me to my core, forced me to dig deep to find the strength I needed to get through those passing moments and days. Your sweet little smile in moments of heartache got me through more days than you could possibly imagine. Your love for me always shining through. As if almost encouraging me and cheering me on in a secret language that only the two of us share.